


The "Deep Shit" Club

by boppitybelle



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: M/M, Private Investigators, tokyo ghoul - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-05-15
Packaged: 2018-03-21 03:54:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3676398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boppitybelle/pseuds/boppitybelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tsukiyama Shuu is a Private Investigator paid to track down college student Kaneki Ken. Usually uninterested in the people he's asked to follow, he's shocked when something about Kaneki reels him in.<br/>Then, they both get in some <em> deep </em> shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ahh! I've been working on this forever! I'm so glad the first part is finally ready for your eyes.  
> This is my first Shuuneki, so please tell me if any character dynamics aren't as you like them. Also, any other feedback would be appreciated.  
> Thanks for reading!

Private Investigators tended to be people who were skilled in the art of following, as well as being inconspicuous. Though Tsukiyama was one of the best in his field for the former, his gaudy attire and purple hair were hard not to notice. Even so, it only took him four days to find Kaneki Ken, who he’d been paid handsomely up-front to locate.  
He tapped his fingers against his steering wheel, his deep blue, almost purple, eyes following the young man as he unlocked the door into his townhouse and stepped tentatively inside.  
“Too easy,” he mumbled, messaging the person who had requested his whereabouts.  
_2112 N Sheffield, Chicago._  
He reclined in the front seat, kicking his long legs up on the dashboard. It seemed his work was done.  
The client replied a bit too quickly, which startled Tsukiyama. He looked down at his phone.  
_Knock on the door and pretend your a solicitor. Just anything to get a peek inside._ The text read. He had met with this woman back in Los Angeles, where he lived, but he just thought she wanted to track down an old boyfriend. Why the hell did she need to know what the inside looked like?  
Without even responding, Tsukiyama got out of his comfortable position and exited his small, black Volvo. He locked it and strode across the street, almost causing a car accident by his lack of awareness, or just general consideration. The passing car honked at him a couple times, shouting curses out the window.  
But Tsukiyama just continued on his way to the townhouse, twirling his car keys on his fingers and whistling.  
He knocked on the door and waited for Kaneki by straightening his red tie.  
“Yes, hello?” the college student said softly through a crack in the door. He had ashy gray eyes that carefully spied over the strange man at his door.  
“Bonjour,” Tsukiyama cleared his throat. Kaneki stepped back from the door, obviously disinterested. “Wai— wait!”  
Kaneki’s eyebrows raised, and he moved back to the door, though he didn't seem much more interested.  
Tsukiyama, though this wasn't supposed to be part of his job, was now determined to look inside. He put his arms down to show he meant no harm, but Kaneki was set on keeping him out.  
“Is there something you need?” he asked.  
“Uh, yes. My crazy ex is chasing me, and I just need to hide for awhile. Can I please stay for just a minute? Until he passes?” Tsukiyama could tell that Kaneki was a kind person, so he used it against him and put on an Oscar-worthy show. The dark-haired college student swallowed hard and nodded, opening the door all the way.  
“I’m Tsuki,” Tsukiyama said, stepping inside and holding out a hand. He didn't feel like fully introducing himself to someone he'd been watching.  
“Kaneki Ken.”  
The front door closed with a loud bang, and Tsukiyama turned to throughly scan the house. It was messy, but nothing suspicious was lying around. Just clothes, dirty dishes, and textbooks. They were standing in the entranceway, which led off into two rooms; a kitchen and a living room.  
“I’ll be out of your hair in a moment. Merci, Kaneki.”  
“Oh, it’s all right. I don’t mind much,” He gave a toothless smile and scratched the back of his head. “So, you’re gay?” he questioned, without realizing how it sounded.  
“Well—,” Tsukiyama started, not minding the query at all.  
“Er, sorry! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it in a rude way.”  
“Of course not. But, yes, I am,” he paused, not sure whether to say what his mind had just thought. “And you’re cute.”  
Kaneki’s face grew horrified and he looked around in nervousness, everywhere but Tsukiyama’s gaze.  
“Ha, I’m just joking!” the purple haired man said, feeling bad that he frightened him.  
They sat awkwardly for a long time, and the silence got on Tsukiyama's nerves.  
"I'm sure he's gone now," he exclaimed, clasping his hands together. Kaneki looked confused for a second, forgetting all about the reason he had let some stranger inside. "Bye," Tsukiyama bowed politely and left Kaneki alone. As they passed each other, Tsukiyama got a closer look at his right eye. Among the gray were a few specks of red, like freckles.  
Kaneki noticed he saw and covered his eye. “Genetic defect," he said, without Tsukiyama needing to ask the question.  
"I wouldn't call it a defect. It's quite beautiful," he reassured the obviously embarrassed college student and then grabbed his chin between his index finger and thumb. Kaneki looked startled for a second, then pulled back, as if finally realizing he could do something other than let people toy with him.  
Tsukiyama's mouth fell into a frown. He did actually think Kaneki was adorable, and wanted to see how he would react. He hadn't expected the return of sass.  
As he walked down the steps of the townhouse, he pulled out his phone and texted the client.  
_Everything seemed normal. Messy, but nothing strange._  
_Was there anyone else home?_  
_I'm not sure, it only seemed like him. That's all you need, right?_  
_Yes. Thank you, Mr. Tsukiyama._  
_You're welcome, Miss Rize._  
Tsukiyama knew very well that it was inappropriate to ask why the client needed the information, but he had a very bad feeling about this. He had only just met Kaneki, but after stalking him on social media and reading about him, he felt obligated to protect the fragile boy.  
Since he was paid up front (which meant he had nothing to lose), and Miss Rize didn’t seem to have good intentions, he texted her the dreaded question.  
_Why do you need his address?_  
He crossed the street to his car, this time looking both ways. Miss Rize didn't seem like a very nice person, but Kaneki did. And that worried him. So, instead of flying back out to LA and finding a new case, Tsukiyama called his hotel and booked a room for another week.  
Once again, it only took a minute for her to respond. He hung up with the hotel receptionist and looked down at the text, _You aren’t supposed to care._  
_Yes, but I do._  
_He took something of mine. I plan to get him back for doing so._  
She was very straight-forward, and Tsukiyama appreciated it. It was better than forcing the information out of her. He bit his cheek, wondering what "get him back" could possibly mean.  
As Tsukiyama drove back to his hotel, he also started contemplating what that “something” could be. Was he a thief? But why would a thief go all the way to Los Angeles to steal something from someone like Miss Rize? She wasn’t obviously rich or sporting anything valuable.  
Tsukiyama's thoughts were cut off when he almost ran over a strawberry blonde boy biking across the street. The guy raised his hand in apology, instead of blaming the flamboyant man’s reckless driving.  
Tsukiyama's attention wasn’t stolen for long, though, because it went straight back to Kaneki. He was usually so professional, getting jobs done without a hitch, but something about this kid piqued his interest.  
He found his way through Chicago’s roads, passing Wrigley Field, and finally reaching his accommodations. He turned in his old key and grabbed a new one from the woman at the front desk. Rize had paid for his original room, so he had to make her think he’d checked out.  
He’d have only one day of rest before the stake-out that he’d already planned in his head. And rest was very important for your mental health before spending days sitting in a car with just junk food and no source of entertainment. This he knew from past experience. As a PI, stake-outs were very common and notorious for their terrible psychological (and psychical) effects.  
He didn't even bother to change and slunk into bed, kicking off his shoes.  
Sleep came easy, as it always did after a long work day.

///

Kaneki was still flustered by the purple-haired man when Hide arrived at his door.  
"Hey," Hide greeted him with a friendly grin and a slight wave.  
"Hi," Kaneki whispered, dropping his hand from his eye, finally in company that he knew didn't mind his mutation.  
They had planned to study together today, which wasn't an uncommon occurrence.  
"Did you see a ghost or something?" Hide said, throwing his bookbag down and unpacking heavy textbooks. "You look terrified."  
Kaneki nodded. "Something like that," He tended to be jealous of people with normal eyes; brown, green, blue. But that man's were almost purple, like his hair. And he was hot, like _really_ hot, Kaneki thought. He wanted to be brave and talk about his sexuality with the stranger, but when Tsukiyama had said he was cute, he lost all nerve.  
"So," Kaneki began, finally moving from his spot and towards his best friend. "Do people actually fall in love at first sight?"  
Hide dropped his pencil and leapt up from the couch, where he had made himself comfortable. "Spill!" he cried, knowing Kaneki usually never had luck in romance.  
He explained to Hide how Tsukiyama ended up in his house and how attractive and tall the man was.  
"It's not love, but you're definitely crushing," Hide chuckled, once Kaneki was done describing every detail in his face.  
"And I'll probably never see him again," he said with a sigh.  
Hide convinced Kaneki to stop talking and worrying about his new love, and got him to start on their schoolwork. Though Hide usually was fine with slacking off and letting his much smarter friend take care of the studying, he wanted to distract him.  
Life went on like this for a few more days. Kaneki came and went, from classes, to studying at home with Hide, to shopping for cheap, unhealthy food. They were normal occurances for a college student.  
But, in the back of his mind, there was a constant desire to see Tsuki's face again. He wanted to get a better look, but he was almost positive human beings couldn't be that perfect. Especially human beings with purple hair.  
He sighed, his chin resting in his hand. There was almost nothing else invading his mind for the past few days; it was just Tsukiyama, like he had put a spell on him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is when the actual "deep shit" mentioned in the title happens  
> whoop whoop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eek  
> I loved all your comments on the first chapter, they made me so happy! So here's another part with some action ;))

The stake-out lasted almost three days. It was was eleven at night when he drowsily spotted a taxi park outside of Kaneki's townhouse. His tiredness vanished and he perked up, watching as Rize stepped out. The PI rubbed his eyes and dug around in his mess for his jacket. 

"Is she really going to knock on his door and expect to get in?" Tsukiyama scoffed to himself. He had only seen her once before, but she was unmistakably the woman who hired him. She walked with such confidence, it was almost obnoxious. 

Kaneki's lights were still on and, as Tsukiyama had discovered from his nights watching outside, he went to bed around one a.m. 

So maybe she could find a way to get in... She was pretty, but the way Kaneki had been flustered around him made Tsukiyama think he didn't swing that way. 

She knocked with force on his door, and then crossed her arms in impatience. The cab drove off after this, leaving the street dark and quiet.   
Kaneki answered the door within minutes, dressed in his pajamas. Which were a fuzzy pair of white pants and a black t-shirt.

"Hello?" he called, peeking out through the crack he made. 

"Excuse me, may I come in?" Rize demanded. Her tone was too obviously rude, and made Kaneki's stomach flip with nervousness. It was weird enough she had arrived so late at night.

He shook his head and closed the door, not waiting to see what she'd do next. 

Rize inhaled deeply, frustration building up. She pulled out a key from her pocket, and used it to unlock the door.

"What the fuck?" Tsukiyama said, once the door opened with ease. Where could she have gotten that key?   
When she stepped inside, the man with purple hair left his car and wobbled to the house he had been stalking. His legs felt like weights, painful from being cramped in one position for too long.

But his fear propelled him forward and he reached the porch soon enough. The door was left slightly open, the light from inside casting a sliver of orange on the pavement. He heard shouting from inside, but couldn’t make out the words. Instead of hesitating any longer, he pushed the door open and shut it behind him. 

“Who are you?” he could hear Kaneki yell from somewhere. 

“Give it back. You didn’t deserve it,” Rize countered in an animalistic snarl, ignoring the question. 

Tsukiyama followed their voices past the foyer and to a small, circular staircase. He rushed up the steps, his legs finally warming back up. The PI found them in a small library-like room. Kaneki was backed into a corner, and Rize had her fist raised with a hungry glow in her eyes. 

“Stop!” Tsukiyama exclaimed. He surged forward and pulled the woman back, away from the cowering boy. “What the hell are you doing? Did you seriously think this through?” he demanded, his hands squeezing Rize’s shoulders to keep her steady.

“What the hell are _you_ doing? I thought you left for Los Angeles!” Rize barked.

“Answer me first, pute.” Tsukiyama almost sang the last word, as if it was a beautiful compliment, rather than an insult. 

Rize’s lips parted and her teeth shone in a terrifyingly creepy grin. She struggled from Tsukiyama’s grasp, pulling out a knife. She held it with both hands, and raised it above her head.

“If you don’t step aside, Tsukiyama…” she broke off into a cackle. “I’ll kill you too.” 

Kaneki whimpered, but the purpled-haired man stood his ground. He actually got closer to Kaneki, throwing his arms out in protection. He didn't have a gun, and he realized now that leaving it in LA was a stupid idea.

“You have no idea what you’re doing,” he sneered, trying to phase Rize, who, when they first met, seemed cool and collected. But right now, she was mad, and her eyes shone with hatred and desire. 

Tsukiyama carefully moved his hand to his pocket, getting ready to call the police.

Rize screeched when she saw his hands shift, throwing herself at him and jabbing the knife into his side. His jaw went slack as it dug deeper, an evil laugh bubbling in the woman's throat.   
Kaneki cried out from behind them, as if in pain as well. 

Crimson blossomed on his white button-down like a rose. His blood spread rapidly, soaking the once stark-white cloth. 

"You should've stayed out of this. The whole reason I hired you was because they say you're detached from cases," Rize hissed in his ear, twisting the knife a couple times before pulling it out.

“Fuck you," the words escaped Tsukiyama's mouth against his will. His lips quivered and his hands moved to his wound as he lost balance. He could feel the blood drain from his torso and his vision got spotty. Rize watched him collapse, completely distracted. 

 _Now, Kaneki,_ Tsukiyama thought. As if his plead travelled telepathically, it only took seconds for the smaller, gray-haired boy to jump onto the woman, clawing and screaming.

They stumbled around the study, crashing into bookshelves and eventually rolling onto the floor. Kaneki found himself on top of the madwoman and pried the knife from her shaky fist. 

Tsukiyama wished he could see the rest, but his eyes were forced closed as his body was drained of energy. 

///

"Oh, God. Oh, fuck."

Tsukiyama was woken to the sound the college boy's voice. His head felt like it had been run over, which was somewhat a distraction from the pain in his torso. 

He didn't dare open his eyes as his unsteady hands found their way to the source of pain. His shirt had been taken off, but he still felt wet and sticky with blood. 

"Oh my God. Are you awake? I'm so sorry," Kaneki said softly, lowering his tone like he knew how much Tsukiyama's head hurt. "I... Oh, shit. Uh, I stopped the bleeding but I don't know if I should close it with stitches." 

Tsukiyama opened one eye and nodded slightly. "Stitch it," he grunted, "merci." 

The iris in Kaneki's right eye was completely red when Tsukiyama looked. It was so horrifyingly beautiful.   
Kaneki's hands hovered over his protector for a second before brushing back his hair. "Okay, I'll be right back." 

Tsukiyama swallowed hard as Kaneki left, looking down to see his body was covered in blood. The purple-haired man hoped it was just his own. He turned his head, finally remembering the scene he had blacked out on. Where was Rize?

It only took a second for Tsukiyama to spot her body on the study's love seat, mangled and unconscious. Or, maybe... Tsukiyama looked closer. Rize's throat was a completely red, drenched in blood. Kaneki had slit it.

The injured man gasped, and finally realized why the police weren't here and why he wasn't in a hospital.   
"Oh mon dieu," he said, breathlessly. 

Kaneki walked back into the study shirtless, with a sewing kit and disinfectant. If he wasn't in so much pain at that moment, Tsukiyama probably would have swooned over his surprisingly toned body. 

Kaneki then explained to him how much he sucked at sewing, his hands shaking in fear. But, either way, it had to be done if Tsukiyama wanted to regain any of the color in his skin or even survive.

"Shit," Kaneki hissed, when he spilled the disinfectant over Tsukiyama. The older man gritted his teeth in discomfort. It stung like hell, but it wasn’t worse than the pain of the needle. He convulsed, his nails trying to dig into the wood floor.

Kaneki probably said sorry more than a hundred times, as he winced and stitched the wound up. Half the time, he couldn’t even look, and they both wondered if it would heal properly without a trained professional's skills. 

Right after he finished, he pivoted around and staggered to the nearest trash can. Tsukiyama didn't need to look, the gagging and retching let him know where Kaneki's last meal ended up. 

"I'll go get cleaning...stuff..." he said, stammering, and looking up at Tsukiyama over the trash can with two different colored eyes. They were almost doe-like, pleading for forgiveness.

 _What had this kid done to deserve Rize's death wish?_ the older man wondered, watching Kaneki drag his tired feet down the stairs again. 

He came back up with two clean shirts draped over his arm and wet rags. He put the shirts down and began working on Tsukiyama's wound again. The coolness felt good against his bloodied skin. He closed his eyes and tried to relax. 

"I'm so fucking sorry," he heard Kaneki whisper, moving closer to his face. He wiped Tsukiyama's forehead with a cloth. 

"Mm," the older man moaned. "It's not your fault, cher." 

There was a pause in the conversation, and the sounds of early morning traffic broke through. 

"I guess," Kaneki said, after a sweet silence. "You didn't need to protect me. Why were you here anyway?"

Tsukiyama had been waiting for this question. He knew that he'd have to explain at one point. He let his eyelids slowly peel open. 

"That woman hired me as a Private Investigator to find you. Apparently you took something of hers. I stayed when something seemed suspicious." 

Kaneki's expression fell. "So that's who..." he murmured, daring to look over at the body.

"What'd you take?" Tsukiyama asked, resisting the urge to touch the boy's soft face. His eye was gorgeous and his features were so gentle, almost feminine. 

"I needed an organ donation a few months ago," Tsukiyama followed Kaneki's gaze, which rested on a scar near his navel. "And her brain-dead sister had the same blood type..." 

"Oh." 

"Yeah," Kaneki closed his eyes, and when they were open, most of the red in his right iris had been replaced with gray. "It was sudden, and her parents signed it over, but that woman didn't seem to agree with the operation. I guess she was still in denial." 

The older man nodded. Kaneki still didn't deserve what had just happened. Tsukiyama had seen his fair share of violence in his time as an officer and then a PI, but a college kid who had just gotten a new organ didn't deserve this. 

Kaneki noticed the fall in mood, and acted on his impulses, trying to make the man with purple hair feel better. Tsukiyama shuddered as he traced his jawline with his nails.

"Are you feeling all right?" Kaneki asked him, still drawing an imaginary line around his face.   
This boy was completely different from the one Tsukiyama had first met. Instead of being scared and letting people walk over him, he was taking charge. He thought it was quite hot, and it turned him on. Though the shy side of Kaneki was cute, this side was sexy. 

The college boy straddled himself around Tsukiyama's hips, leaning down to kiss his forehead. His discolored eye was crimson again, in some state of lust. It was fascinating how quickly it could change.

"I'm so sorry," he breathed. "Just tell me if you don't like it." 

Tsukiyama blinked up at him, surprised when he felt his pants being unbuttoned.

“Whoa, stop," he groaned. The boner killer was the fact this was happening in the presence of a dead body. Tsukiyama pointed at Rize.

Kaneki's face lit up in realization. "Oh, shit," One blink and his right eye had become an even brighter shade of red. "I... whoops. I didn't even..." 

The back of Tsukiyama's throat tickled with growing laughter. He did like the flustered Kaneki more than the one that had just tried to take his pants off, he realized. 

"I really need sleep, anyways,” Tsukiyama finally announced, breaking the awkward silence. Kaneki gave him a disappointed look. 

"But, Tsuki..." 

The older man's heart fluttered when he heard this. Something about the way Kaneki's voice cracked at the end in pain made him melt.   
Tsukiyama ignored his fatigue and the soreness in his arms as he grabbed Kaneki's face and pulled it into his. 

Their lips met for only a second before parting in desperation. The younger one whimpered into the other's mouth. Tsukiyama couldn't hold back a smile, realizing that Kaneki had brushed his teeth after puking.

They broke away to catch a breath.

"You're very considerate," Tsukiyama said gently. 

Kaneki pressed a finger to his lower lip in what seemed like self-consciousness. "Oh, that. Yeah." 

Tsukiyama pulled him back in for another kiss. This time, they let their tongues find each other.  
The older man grunted in pain as Kaneki began grinding his hips closer to his fresh wound. 

"I'm so fucking sorry," Kaneki exclaimed, almost jumping up. "I wasn't thinking." 

"Stop apologizing," Tsukiyama groaned, his hand floating over the discomfort, but not daring to touch it. "Anyway, we need to focus on bigger things right now." 

Kaneki's heart seemed to shatter at his rejection. But, he had a point. The college student let his eyes fall onto the body he had so violently murdered. 

"It was self-defense," Kaneki muttered. "She hurt you, and was going to kill me." 

"Or just cut out whatever vital organ her sister gave to you," Tsukiyama offered, raising one eyebrow.

"I'm so dead," Kaneki murmured, under his breath so that the other man couldn't hear. He ran his hands through his hair in apprehension. "Will this hold up in court? Or should I start running?"

"Nuh uh," Tsukiyama answered, when Kaneki's voice got loud enough and he could hear his final anxious question.   
He wanted to calm him, but a wave of warmth and fatigue suddenly washed over him. His purple eyes closed when he finally gave in, leaving Kaneki to pace with worry by himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you SOSO much for reading
> 
> if you want updates or just stupid stories from my life...my tumblr is boppitybelle as well :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO SORRY THIS IS LATE  
> anyways, I'd love it if you read and gave feedback (since I'm editing everything by myself ㄒoㄒ)   
> also, please ignore the awkward sex scene and blame it on the stress these two are currently under  
> and enjoy~

Tsukiyama woke up shrouded in a warm blanket. The air was sultry, and he found it difficult to breathe. Something hissed when he sat up quickly in attempt to escape the cocoon of a comforter.

"Oh, mon dieu," he growled, the fast movements reminding him of the pain in his lower torso.   
He was in a small bedroom, with slate colored walls. There was one window, which provided little light. It was storming outside anyways, making the room a bleary gray. 

Tsukiyama had been wrapped up in a thick blanket, and left to sleep next to a cat. She was black, with gem blue eyes. They wondered warily over the man, because he had just pushed her off the bed and onto the ground.

"Je suis désolé," he apologized. He winced as he got up, his sleepiness finally gone.

He grabbed a note that was left on the nightstand, next to a towel and tiny sample bottles of shampoo and conditioner.  
Welcome back to the land of the productive. If you're reading this, I'm still out. I left you the necessities so you can take a shower. But only if you feel well enough to move. :) Press the knob down and turn left for hot water (feel free to use as much as you want, I don't mind). Just wash the blood off, please.  
-K ;)

The tiny emoticons he drew and just his general cuteness struck Tsukiyama's heart with a slight   
pang.

The man gently bent over and rubbed the raven-colored fur on the cat's neck. Once they got friendly, he picked her up and put back her on the bed. 

Tsukiyama grabbed the towel and hotel bottles and headed to the bathroom, which was connected to the bedroom. It was small, but in a cozy way. He was pretty sure Kaneki didn't mind the squeeze, because of his height, but he was much taller.

The man with purple hair shimmied into the shower and followed the directions, after taking off a shirt he didn't remember putting on. 

The shower head sputtered to life, shooting out a stream of pleasantly warm water. The man twisted under the jets, trying to clean off all the blood from his wound. He finally worked up the courage to look down at his stitches, which were ineptly sew right above his hip. The laceration looked slightly swollen, so Tsukiyama prayed it wasn't infected. 

He was just about done rinsing his hair when he heard a noise from outside. Earlier, without thinking, he had left the bathroom door open, which made for an awkward encounter.

"Oh, sorry!" Kaneki yelped, looking in for a second before realizing what he had stumbled upon. His hands shot up, covering his eyes. 

Tsukiyama turned off the faucet and wiped away the steam on the glass that created a border between the two men. He gazed at Kaneki, who seemed mortified, even though he was the one fully clothed. He found it adorable.

The younger man finally peeked through his fingers, to see a clean Tsukiyama stepping out of the shower, a white towel wrapped loosely around his waist. 

"Bonjour," the taller man said seductively, sauntering past Kaneki, not ashamed of the situation he’d been found in. 

Kaneki was carrying a plastic bag full of instant noodles and soda, the bounty of his trip out. Once the older man passed him, he cleared his throat and recovered from his embarrassment. “So...uh, you’re feeling better?"

“Oh, much better—,” At Tsukiyama’s words, Kaneki dropped the bag on the carpet of his room, spinning around quickly. His arms extended, his palms meeting the bare shoulder blades in front of him, which had water droplets trailing down them. He pushed hard, causing Tsukiyama to stumble forward and onto the bed. The cat, who had been resting between the folds in the comforter, yowled in annoyance. She then sprung away from the two and out of the room.

“Good,” Kaneki exhaled, excitement glistening in his eyes. “Should we continue, then?” 

Tsukiyama scrambled to face upwards, his eyes wide with shock. He had expected his confidence to intimidate Kaneki, but it had the opposite effect. Maybe he had been too flirtatious. Either way, the older man was amused, as well as aroused.

Kaneki’s right iris turned from gray to red before Tsukiyama’s eyes. The younger boy put his hands on the bed, and began crawling closer to like he was going in for an attack.

Tsukiyama had so many things to say at that moment, like compliments and questions for the beautiful human that was creeping closer. He wanted to tell him how charming his eye was, and ask him if his family knew his sexual orientation. But, his throat was caught in silence, the situation finally hushing him. 

He felt warm hands on his hips, tugging at the towel. A flash of lightning lit up the room for a spilt second, illuminating the two in a deep shade of blue. The thunder that followed drowned out the words Kaneki had whispered. And Tsukiyama would probably never figure out what they were because, before he could ask, his body was exposed.

Kaneki tossed the towel aside, and it fell to the ground. He started pulling at his own clothes, his hands fighting to get his sweater over his head. The purple-haired man just watched, his lips turning up into a smile. Whatever was happening right now could be classified as art. It was so beautiful and complicated, arms and legs flailing around in a personal battle of "what can I take off first?". 

Eventually, Kaneki had just his boxers on, which were decorated with different cat breeds. There were piles of wet clothes scattered around his room after the stripping.

"Wow," Tsukiyama breathed, as the younger man licked his lips. 

"Are you ready?" Kaneki asked, and Tsukiyama could finally hear a bit of nervousness in his tone. 

"Oui."

Kaneki blinked a few times, his eyes scanning Tsukiyama's bare body. His confidence was suddenly brought back, and his right eye turned fiery. "All right."

They laced their fingers together, one on top of the other. After a while of desperate gazing, their lips met concurrently. They thrust their bodies together, longing for skin-on-skin contact. 

"Oh, Kaneki," Tsukiyama purred, holding back a squeal that built up in his lungs.   
Kaneki moved his head down and used his tongue to trace the line on Tsukiyama's chest from between his pecks to his stomach. He sucked around his navel, avoiding the stitched up laceration. 

Tsukiyama had no idea what he was doing for some time, but it dulled the pain in his side. For that, at least, he was thankful. His eyes eventually rolled back in ecstasy, his cheeks in a hot blush. 

"That..." he moaned, "feels great."

Thunder crackled in the distance.

"Mm," Kaneki said between kisses. His hands moved to grab Tsukiyama's cock, which had grown hard from all the caressing. "Good. I just want you to feel better, Tsuki." 

Kaneki slunk forward, letting his lips collide with Tsukiyama's. His eye was flickering with red, like static.

"It's Tsukiyama," the purple-haired man corrected, when they finally pulled away from each other. 

"Tsuki is cuter," Kaneki said, pumping his hands up and down. 

"Ah," Tsukiyama gasped, his cheeks a bright shade of pink. He brought his hands up to cover his face, and began to moan. For once in his life, he was actually embarrassed. 

"Is it good?" Kaneki asked, moving back down and putting his lips around the tip. He started to suck, and felt Tsukiyama writhe beneath him. 

"Oh..." Tsukiyama said breathlessly. "Tres bien!" 

It only took a few more strokes and the man under Kaneki yelped, letting his hands drop off his face to tug at the sheets. He quivered and finished, panting. 

Kaneki had moved his mouth before Tsukiyama came, so it ended up splattered against his stomach. He let his grip on the sheets loosen. "No more," he whispered, when he felt Kaneki's mouth caress against his hips.  

In time, the younger man complied, stopping his kisses, and flopping down next to his lover. He wanted Tsukiyama to make him feel good too, but he also understood how tired he was. He wiped the drool that was making its way down his chin. 

Kaneki turned over and let his eyes take in the beautiful expression that was left on Tsukiyama's face. His mouth was twisted up in pain, but his eyes were alight with passion and pleasure. 

"Don't look," he murmured, once he realized Kaneki had been staring. 

"Fine," the younger man groaned, flipping back over to face the door. "Ohh, fuck," He leapt up, throwing a blanket over the naked Tsukiyama. 

"Huh--?" Tsukiyama couldn't finish, because the slam of the bedroom door cut him off.

Kaneki was gone when he looked around the bedroom, and he was deeply confused. Suddenly, he could hear muffled voices outside the door.

"I thought I told you I was busy!" Kaneki shouted. 

"Well, I... I wanted to study before the finals," someone else responded. "What's going on? Who the hell is that?" 

Whoever was out there had seen enough to know what Kaneki and Tsukiyama had just done.

"Shh! It's no one, Hide. Let's talk in the kitchen," Kaneki said through clenched teeth. 

Tsukiyama could hear footsteps getting further and further away, until they were too quiet to even pick up. He exhaled, letting his back arch and his body come down from the euphoria. 

He hadn't had a blow job in the longest time, and the one Kaneki gave was too close to perfection. He didn't want it to end, but his body couldn't take much more. 

He tried to wait for Kaneki, but once again, he ended up drifting into a welcoming sleep.

///

"You can't keep falling asleep like this," Kaneki's voice wavered in and out of focus in Tsukiyama's ears. "I mean, I know you threw yourself in front of a knife to save me, but jeez. Wake up, sleepyhead." 

Tsukiyama's eyes fluttered open, his eyelashes gently beating back and forth in grogginess.   
But all the exhaustion disappeared when he felt cold fingers snaking their way down his chest. He didn't tell Kaneki earlier, but he saw the way he was looking at him, his mismatched eyes full of desire. So he used his hands to stop the one that was feeling up him. 

"Wait," Tsukiyama said, his voice low. He ignored the pain that shot through his body and flipped the gray-haired college boy over. He held his tongue in between his teeth in concentration and clambered to get on top. "Is this what you wanted?"

"Yes. Oh, yes," Kaneki breathed, looking up at Tsukiyama with pleading eyes. He lifted his head to meet the other man's lips, and their tongues fought for dominance. It was aggressive, but also very enjoyable. 

In time, Tsukiyama couldn't hold back his pain any longer and pulled away. His nose crinkled up and he grunted.

"Are you all right?" Kaneki asked, his hand resting on the purple-haired man's upper arm.  
Tsukiyama nodded, clenching his teeth to hold back the moans of irritation, courtesy of his side. He didn't want to disappoint Kaneki, who looked so desperate. He leaned forward and ran his tongue along Kaneki's collarbone. 

"Ooh," he got a pleasant reaction from him. "Maybe we should stop, if you're not feeling up to it-- Mm." 

Tsukiyama cut him off by nipping gently as his earlobe. This time he would take care of Kaneki, since he felt like such a burden for making him tend to him.

“You don’t need to pay me back, you know. You saved me, so I helped you. Plus, we got into this mess to...get...her,” Kaneki tried to finish the sentence, but his words were fractured as Tsukiyama rubbed his knee gently over the boy’s boxers. 

“Yes, but I feel bad that you had to do all this for little ol’ me,” he said provocatively, working Kaneki’s crotch with a rhythm. 

“But, I feel bad that--,”

“Okay, so we both feel bad,” Tsukiyama exclaimed, his foot stopping with the stimulating movements. He changed his position and let Kaneki go. “And we’re both in some grand trouble. I mean, I’m a witness for the whole...” He waved his hand around as if it would describe the situation.

“Murder, I think that’s the word you’re looking for,” Kaneki prompted.

“Oui, murder. So, how do we go about this? Where’s the body right now?”

“Dammit, keep your voice down,” the boy hissed, his eyes morphing back into a cloudy gray and turning over to face the window, still wet from the day’s rain. “I took care of her.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tsukiyama questioned, turning his head to look at him.

“A freshman at my college said she could help and--,”

“You took her help? Just like that? How’d you get it done so quickly?” His purple eyes widened in fear, or maybe confusion.

“You were asleep for like, um, two days. I had to do something,” Kaneki answered, after checking his smartphone’s calendar for the date. “Oh, by the way. We have a meeting with this same person later today.”

Tsukiyama propped himself up, trying to read the student to see if he was being serious or not. “Well, I’ll get dressed then. My clothes are in my car outside.”   
“Everything from your car is in that bag. I hope you don’t mind I went through it,” Kaneki gave a little smirk, obviously pleased with himself. Tsukiyama slumped off the bed, and grabbed the plastic bag the college boy gestured to. He kicked the instant noodles away from the bathroom door and changed.

When he came out in a pinstriped suit, he saw Kaneki had gotten dressed as well. He was wearing tight jeans and graphic t-shirt, which had a logo or something Tsukiyama didn’t quite understand. 

“What is this monstrosity?” Tsukiyama’s eyebrows lifted, staring at the strange outfit.

“Um, a shirt. Do you ever dress casually?” Kaneki looked down at himself, wondering if something he had on was offending the older man.

“Of course not,” Tsukiyama exclaimed, acting like Midwestern people were repulsive to his level of taste. Kaneki rolled his eyes at this, tossing the purple-haired man his car keys, and leading him out of the townhouse. "Who was that earlier?" Tsukiyama asked, as they stepped outside and into the cold city air. The ground was still wet with the rain, which had let up sometime after the older man had fallen asleep. 

“A friend. And he likes you, by the way. Said something about ‘good vibes’,” Kaneki chuckled to himself, getting into the passenger seat of Tsukiyama’s car, which no one but him had ever sat in before. 

The car had been cleaned, the garbage from the stake-out was gone without a trace. Plus, it smelled like soap and nice weather. Tsukiyama started the vehicle, trying to remember the scent he’d grown so accustomed to. He followed Kaneki’s directions, only fighting occasionally with him on where to turn. 

“Oh, mon dieu,” he breathed, as he pulled up to an old warehouse and let the car’s engine hum into silence. He looked to Kaneki, who seemed scared to death, though his eye showed no signs of changing. The college boy took a deep breath through his nose, and grabbed the door handle.

“Let’s do this,” he murmured, opening the door and waiting for Tsukiyama to follow him. The man got out promptly, straightening his suit and heading toward the gray-haired boy. 

They had drove into a quiet, yet dangerous, part of town, which made the two continuously look over their shoulders. They found themselves in front of a huge building, with four large gates that trucks could back into. One was slightly open, enough so that a person could duck under to get in. A warm yellow light came from the crack, along with the muffled sound of chatter. The pair let their feet guide them to the glow, which was pronounced in the dying light of dusk. 

“We do not belong here, Kaneki,” Tsukiyama said as they stood in front of the door.

“Calm down, it’ll be fine,” With that, Kaneki hunched over and edged into the small opening. The soft talking from inside cut off abruptly with the entrance of the student. 

“Kaneki! I’m so glad you came,” a young girl’s voice broke through the silence. Tsukiyama held his breath and followed his friend, knowing he couldn’t back out now.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> time passes and tsukiyama doesn't have ANY feelings for kaneki. none. I swear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO SORRY THAT IT TOOK ME FOREVER TO WRITE THIS. PLEASE DON'T BE MAD. The French translations will be at the end.   
> Please enjoy!

“Kaneki! I’m so glad you came,” a young girl’s voice broke through the silence. Tsukiyama held his breath and followed his friend, knowing he couldn’t back out now.

Tsukiyama matched the voice he had just heard with a lady who was standing next to Kaneki, their arms linked affectionately. He unfolded his body and stood straight, watching them carefully. Her face was framed with dark, medium-length hair, one eye covered with bangs. She wasn’t smiling, but her eyes seemed happy and friendly. 

“Touka, this is Tsukiyama,” Kaneki said, beckoning the Private Investigator to come closer. Tsukiyama gave the girl a slight bow, and turned to take in the rest of the scenery.

The floor was cold concrete, some places stained with dried paint, and the ceiling was very high, big enough for two trucks to be stacked on top of each other. The setup in the middle of the big room was quite makeshift, a dozen beat-up chairs in a lopsided circle. Some of the chairs were filled with people, who spoke quietly to each other and glanced uneasily at the new visitors.

“All right, let’s sit down and introduce everyone,” Touka suggested, leading the pair to the chairs and having them take two of the empty seats. To the left of Tsukiyama was a young boy who, despite everyone else’s uncertainty, was smiling widely at him. He spoke first, raising one hand in a wave.

“The name’s Juuzou,” he said, tipping an imaginary hat. Tsukiyama looked closer at him to see that the red lines on his face and up his arms weren’t pen, but actual stitches. He scooted closer to Kaneki in fear. 

The seat next to the boy was empty, so the group moved on to a large man who sat alone. He wore a heavy looking coat with a high collar that covered his neck. He had white hair that ended at his chin and a small, scruffy beard. He gave a dip of his head, and introduced himself.

“I’m Yomo.”

Tsukiyama found his eyes skipping over Touka, who’d already been introduced, and landing on someone who looked similar to her, but was obviously a boy. Like the kid next to Tsukiyama, he looked way too young to be in this support group. 

“Ayato,” he barked, looking back down to the ground in annoyance. 

Next to him was a curly haired boy, who had his lips pursed and a strange aura. “I’m Nishiki,” he announced, looking up at Kaneki over his glasses. 

“Wai- whoa. You’re from my art history class,” Kaneki said softly. He was nervous, and if his tone of voice didn’t prove it, the flash of red in his eye did. 

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” he hissed, crossing his legs and leaning back in the wobbly chair. He smirked. 

“Nishiki, you’re scaring the poor kid.” 

Tsukiyama stared at the guy who’d just spoken. He looked the most like a criminal of everyone here; yet spoke so gently it threw the new pair off. He had tattoos, piercings, and half of his head shaved. He smiled tenderly, as if apologizing for the redhead’s rude tone.

“My name’s Uta. I started the group. We’re all a big family, and very happy to have you join us. Please hold back questions about other people’s past. We prioritize privacy and try to talk about current feelings instead. 

“We tend to meet on Thursdays or Sundays, and swear on secrecy to not rat each other out. Sometime or another, we were all once criminals, so it’s a good idea to keep that in mind when speaking to each other. Please go ahead and introduce yourselves.”

Kaneki gulped audibly, and turned to the group. “I’m Kaneki.”

“And I’m Tsukiyama. Bonjour,” the Private Investigator said assertively, trying to make up for Kaneki’s lack of confidence. Juuzou gave a little squeal and latched onto his arm.

“You speak French?” he asked, eyes shining with curiosity. The tiny red criss-crosses on his lips trembled with the movement. 

“ _Oui, mon petit. Qu'est-ce que tu as fait que tu est retrouvé ici, mon cher?_ ” Tsukiyama purred, knowing no one could understand him. He patted Juuzou’s head, ruffling the blonde hair that was held back from his face with red clips. He looked like a walking clown, but Tsukiyama saw a little bit of his style in the outfit, so he respected it. 

“Who’d like to start today’s discussion?” Uta prompted, ignoring Juuzou and Tsukiyama’s side conversation. He sounded so civil, when in reality, they had all done something terrible and were trying to cope with the guilt. 

“I would,” Kaneki started before clearing his throat nervously and continuing, “I did something really awful. Something I know I couldn’t have avoided, but still, it’s haunting me. Plus, I dragged someone innocent into it, when they only wanted to protect me,” He sighed heavily, cupping his face in his hands and casting his gaze to the floor.

“I didn’t really think it through in the moment because I was so scared. It was life-or-death. Now every time I close my eyes the moment replays. I can’t go to sleep because my conscience is so muddled.

And I feel most bad for Tsukiyama, who never should have been involved. Oh, God. We didn't deserve this.” 

The older man gently touched the warm skin between Kaneki's shoulder blades. He hadn't realized how innocent this boy was, especially after his sensual performance earlier that day. He rubbed his back gently, as Nishiki smirked at the two. 

“Yeah, it’s tough shit, eh? You guys have no idea,” he chuckled.

“This isn’t a competition,” Touka growled, shooting a glare at the curly haired boy, who was reclined in his seat. His aloofness frustrated Tsukiyama.

The purple haired man cleared his throat, willing someone else to speak. Juuzou caught on and grinned playfully before talking.

“I have lots of bad memories too. I usually ignore them by doing things that make me happy, or convincing myself I wasn’t in the wrong.”

“Yeah, try distracting yourself, Kaneki. You’ll sleep better with other things on your mind,” Yomo had said this, but still seemed distant. 

Tsukiyama turned to check on Kaneki, and noticed him playing anxiously with the hem of his shirt. The older man placed his warm palm on top of the quivering fingers of the other, and he stopped shaking. They listened to the rest of the group speak, taking comfort in the company. 

Eventually, Kaneki turned his hand over and grabbed Tsukiyama’s, purposefully avoiding eye contact. 

The rest of the time was spent like that, but surprisingly wasn’t awkward at all. No other group members seemed to notice, or, at least didn’t call them out on it. 

///

The first meeting was two weeks ago. 

Surprisingly, not much had really happened in that time period. Tsukiyama had silently predicted they’d be caught by now, but then again; there was no evidence, and no witness. Well, beside himself, who’d never out Kaneki.

The college student let Tsukiyama crash at his place, while he continued to attend his classes and live off of junk food. It wasn’t much of a change for the older man, so he didn’t mind. While the student was busy, he found company in the boy’s cat, which was named Kuro, suitably. 

The man, who’s purple hair had faded into a dark blue, with dark brown roots showing, didn’t miss the hot weather of Los Angeles. He enjoyed taking walks in the chilly air, along the city streets, trying to find shops that would cater to his taste in clothing. And, besides, he had no one to go back to. No one missing him.

He often wondered if the guilt, which sat like a stone in his stomach, would ever go away. Even though he hadn’t done it, and really had no reason to stay here, he felt like he needed to protect Kaneki. The boy was probably dealing with much more guilt than he was.

He looked up from his intense petting session with Kuro as the entrance’s doorknob turned. 

“-and I was like, ‘Dude, you know that’s wasabi, right?’.”

Kaneki was giggling madly at the story, with an alcohol-flushed Hide following closely. Just like most Fridays, he knew it was time to leave the comfort of the common room’s couch, and let them crash. They usually played video games, and the older man knew he was not invited.

“I can’t believe you took all those shots,” Kaneki said to Hide, locking the door behind them. 

“They dared me, how couldn’t I?” Hide rebutted, his laughing and hiccups progressively getting quieter as Tsukiyama ascended the stairwell. 

Last night’s support group was painfully awkward. Only Touka and Uta showed up besides their duo. Touka was clearly mad that her brother had refused to come, saying something about puberty making him unpleasant and hard to deal with.

Tsukiyama didn’t talk much, and instead opted to listen. Kaneki’s night terrors were slowly getting better, and the proof was in the slowly vanishing dark circles under both their eyes. 

The older man always helped Kaneki, who would wake up shouting or crying, depending on the dream. He seemed it was only right to go upstairs (he had been sleeping on the pull-out couch for the past two weeks, insisting it wasn’t hurting his back) with water and calming words. 

Kaneki would be sweating, clawing at his body, ripping off the blankets, and refusing any physical comfort. But latter was probably due to their short sexual history. 

Though he had spoken to Hide a few times, they didn’t really connect much, and stayed out of each other’s way. Tsukiyama sometimes felt that they were in a competition over Kaneki, and whoever treated him best would win. At least, that’s what a few dirty glares from the almost-yellow haired boy had implied to Tsukiyama. 

“Doesn’t Hide like me?” Tsukiyama had asked Kaneki a few days ago.

“Of course, why would you think otherwise?” the gray-eyed boy had answered, carefully carrying a hot bowl of soup from the microwave.

The older man shrugged, even though Kaneki wasn’t looking. He had slurped his tea, making the noise extra loud.

“Oh, finally,” Tsukiyama murmured, as Kuro pushed her way into the bedroom. He was currently flopped down on his back, his head hanging off, watching the cat pad towards him upside-down. “Someone desires my presence. Even if it’s just a cat.”

He flipped over, onto his stomach, and gently lifted her up and set her next to him. 

“What is even happening anymore, Kuro? Do I leave? Its quite obvious people here aren’t willing me to stay. But how will Kaneki deal with this mess alone, Kuro? Will you help him? I guess you’ll have to. What good am I doing, anyways-,”

“A lot, actually.” 

Tsukiyama didn’t even notice the boy standing in the doorway until he spoke. He looked up for a second, but then continued to face the cat, trying to hide his blush.

“Where’s Hide?” 

“Throwing up in the bathroom downstairs. Do you want to sleep up here tonight? I can risk one night on the couch,” he offered, crossing his arms over his chest and letting his shoulder rest on the doorframe. 

Tsukiyama let Kuro leap from his grasp and onto the floor, treading warily to Kaneki. She still loved her owner, but they had become distant since the older man arrived. 

“No, it’s fine,” Tsukiyama said, before chuckling lightly. He waved his hand, like it was no big deal, ignoring the dull aches that ran down his back. At least his stab wound had healed surprisingly well- considering Kaneki’s stitching skills- and rarely hurt. 

“If you say so,” Kaneki muttered, somewhat to himself, but still loud enough for the other to hear. He promptly turned away, leaving Kuro offended. 

“It’s okay, _le minou_. I’m here,” Tsukiyama clicked his tongue softly, to attract the cat. 

He decided it was time to take a shower, which he rarely did. He felt Kaneki letting him stay in his home, as well as nursing him back to health, was being a burden. Adding to his water bill just made it worse. 

“Just get in the shower already, Tsukiyama.”

The purple- well, now blue- haired man whipped around, his torso bare because he’d already peeled off his shirt. Kaneki was back in the doorway, looking down at the ground, analyzing his feet.

“I can tell you’re guilty, you know. You’re always like this. Just get in the shower. Your hair’s awful.” 

The man didn’t know if he should take the insult to heart, because Kaneki had said it so seriously. 

“And toss me your clothes, they’re filthy. I’ll wash them for you,” Kaneki finally looked up and took a few steps forward, as the older man took a few backwards. His feet ended up on the bathroom’s tile.

Kaneki seemed hurt, but laughed it off. “I thought we were friends?” he said, ending it like a question.

“Uh, I- I just. Kaneki, we are. Of course we are.”

“Then why are you…” the younger man walked towards him, watching as he still backed up, “backing up? You’ve been really distant recently. What happened? Did I do something?”

“Um,” Tsukiyama didn’t know what to say.

“Tsuki, are you feeling bad about staying here? Please don’t. I need you here, and you know that,” Kaneki almost whispered.

The private investigator crossed his arms awkward, attempting to cover his exposed chest. It seemed childish, especially for him, but he was embarrassed about his body.

“Thank you for letting me shower, Kaneki,” he responded curtly, pivoting and slamming the bathroom door closed with his back. He let out a shaky breath, before regaining himself and turning the faucet on.

He was surprised Kaneki didn’t say anything after that abrupt end to the conversation. Usually he would laugh, trying to make things between them less awkward. Or continue to talk, even though Tsukiyama was clearly not in the mood.

At least, that’s what happened when they fought over food, or decided if Hide should come over. 

“ _Câlisse,_ ” Tsukiyama spat, undressing completely and finally showering.

He was so angry with himself for getting flustered around the boy. They were nothing more than friends, even after what had happened- that’s how Kaneki saw them. Just friends. 

So why did he feel so light and warm around him? Like the world had decided to spin a different way, making everything fuzzy so Tsukiyama couldn’t even guess the time anymore. Being with Kaneki made his internal clock tick wrong, throwing it off completely. Time passed so stealthily when he was with him. 

His baby face, complete with round cheeks, made Tsukiyama want to kiss him constantly. He was so precious. Hide had pointed out one night that Kaneki grabs his chin when he is hiding something, but the gray haired boy denied it, blushing intensely.

Tsukiyama loved learning new things about him. Like the fact he was slightly allergic to Kuro, and if he slept in the same bed as her, he’d wake up sniffling and sneezing. 

And the way he refused to read directions on any microwave meal, claiming he knew exactly how to do it. 

Another thing the older man picked up was that the boy was extremely outgoing around him, but shy when around anyone else. It was so cute, the way his cheeks flushed a light pink as someone called him by his name, or got a little too close-

Tsukiyama coughed as he breathed in shampoo. He had forgotten to rinse his hair because of how lost in thought he was. 

_No, no, no. Kaneki thinks of us as good friends, nothing more. We are just living together until this whole thing blows over. That’s all. I feel nothing for him,_ the man scolded himself, finishing his shower. _Nothing._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oui, mon petit. Qu'est-ce que tu as fait que tu est retrouvé ici, mon cher? = Yes, my child. What did you do to end up here, my dear?
> 
> le minou = cat
> 
> Câlisse = fuck
> 
> thank you for reading. seriously.


End file.
